Weaving Of Fate
by SilveredSins
Summary: Hermione and Ginny reflect what could have been the eve of the Last Battle.


Weaving Of Fate

"I believe that dreams are more powerful than facts, that hope always triumphs over experience, that laughter is the only cure for grief. And I believe that love is stronger than death."

The Crow

Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger stood on a moss-choked boulder overlooking a small, quiet church where the congregation was filling up the polished wood pews. The older witch pulled out a black cigarette with a silver filter. She whispered, "Incendio," lighting the tip before putting it to her lips and inhaling the toxic chemicals that fueled her addiction. She blew out a small cloud of acrid lavender smoke and stared out into the sunset.

"That's such a horrible habit, Hermione." Ginny said softly, and she shrugged in response.

"I know, but it helps with the stress. Believe me, I tried to quit."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "For how long?" There hadn't been a day in the last few months that she hadn't seen Hermione without a cigarette. Luckily, the Black Chains she smoked (some obscure Wizarding brand) didn't turn her teeth that sickly yellow color she'd seen from some smokers, not to mention the bad breath.

"About a week. Then I scrounged up some money and bought a pack out of the blue. I just haven't been able to stop, not with everything else that's going on." Hermione and Ginny had been the Ministry's top Aurors for about four months now. Although the younger girl had yet to graduate, her skill at quick and brutal hexes had allowed her to train for Auror certification over the summer. The two of them had gotten the crossed-wands symbol of the Aurors tattooed on their left forearms after getting horribly drunk in some London dive.

They had started spending any free time they had together, but with Ginny in school as well as their Auror duties, they barely saw each other. Then they were called into Dumbledore's office, who presented them their new assignment: to infiltrate the Death Eaters and find out Voldemort's plans for the Final Battle. For some reason, the Dark Lord had not attacked at Harry's graduation, and the Light was desperate to know why, not wanting to risk relaxing security until they knew he was safe.

The lot of them were fools, Hermione thought, until Voldemort was a smoldering corpse in front of her, she wouldn't believe he was dead. So they were sent to a Dark Revel, dressed in some of the sluttiest clothing she and Ginny had ever seen.

They had fallen to their knees and pleaded to be able to serve him. Ginny had told him a colorful tale about how darker passions had arisen in her after her possession by his younger self, while Hermione had the arduous task of convincing that monster that despite the 'dreadful taint' in her veins, she still had a power any would envy. Overall it had been the most humiliating thing either of them had ever done. Hermione vaguely remembered throwing up after the incident was over.

A week later, on the night of a pale cerulean moon, they had received their Dark Marks, showcasing them as loyal servants of Voldemort. Hermione had once completely broken down, and Ginny had found the older witch in the bathroom of her apartment, trying to cut the brand out of her skin. Somehow that incident had turned from one of pain to pleasure as they kissed and tumbled onto the bed.

Afterwards, they had sworn never to cross that line again. It would be too hard to go on if one saw the other die. They had already suffered enough pain when Ron had been assassinated by Draco Malfoy as he was walking back from Hogsmeade. Ginny had discovered the blood-soaked body, and on examination, the girls had been told that his throat had been slit. The funeral had been a small private affair, but gave no closure to Hermione or Ginny. It only added scars to their heart to match the ones cut into their skin.

Hermione ground out her first cigarette into the rock and pulled out another. Looking at Ginny's pleading expression, she slid it back into her pocket. Suddenly her cinnamon eyes locked on the group of Death Eaters steadily approaching the church in a horde of black robes and disgusting masks. A small shudder went down Hermione's spine, and she looked at Ginny. Silver tears trailed down her face right as a chilled rain hit the earth in an explosion of Nature's fury.

Ginny winced as a sting of pain shot through the Mark on her right breast. "He's coming closer," she whispered, a tinge of fear in her voice. Hermione nodded, shivering in the icy grip of the rain. She swallowed through a lump in her throat, fighting the urge to wrap her arms around Ginny and never let go. Neither of them dared to touch each other, fearing what would happen if they dared to shatter the celibacy they had confined themselves to for months.

After a few moments of listening to the patter of the rain, Hermione spoke. "Is this really the day, Ginny? Will this really do anything, for either side? For months we've killed, tortured…" Her voice trailed off, filled with frustration and despair, "for the amusement of a perverted serpent. No one's been saved. I've murdered more than we could ever protect."

"At least you don't like splitting people open," Ginny said bitterly.

"The only reason you…like it stems from your connection to Voldemort, not a twist of personal sadism. It's like Harry's scar. You can feel what he feels, especially when you're standing about a foot away from him at the Dark Revels. You're not a murderer. You can control what you do." Hermione's turned her head to hide the tears in her eyes; for she knew even the pounding rain would not conceal her sobbing. "Besides, after tonight, it won't matter, for better or worse."

"We could always jump." Ginny gestured to the gray ledge behind the church. Hermione nodded and then laughed, a harsh sound like someone swallowing broken glass. Agony surged through their Marks, making Hermione stumble. Ginny caught her and the unexpected contact made them both blush. It felt so right, but could never be. Just because Hermione had made the mistake of secretly taking a glass sphere from the Department of Mysteries when no one was looking. She didn't know why she had done such a thing until she read the words carved upon the glass a year later after stumbling upon it in her trunk.

Those words had sealed her fate and it was too late to do anything about it. The whispery cursive had etched itself into her skull. She had even experimented with Memory Charms to try and get rid of the memory, but nothing kept that wicked prose from returning to her thoughts. _When hearts of lionesses fuse in crimson and gold…_"No", Hermione whispered, keeping herself from reciting the words that had broken her spirit so long ago.

"I suppose we have a prophecy to fulfill." Hermione whispered into the air, unable to look at Ginny. She knew that if she did, they wouldn't be able to fight. A swirl of emotions held her in a vise-like grip. The bittersweet smell of rain and earth brought back so many memories. Why them, she screamed inside, why were they the ones forbidden from loving each other?

"Don't we always?" Ginny said in a hollow voice, and they turned to look at each other, droplets of rain making a mockery of their tears. Hermione held out her hand and Ginny took it, pulling them closer. They pressed their lips together in a desperate, passionate kiss, as if this one act would reverse their destiny. For one minute they could fool themselves.

As they pulled away from the kiss, fire surging through their veins, Hermione gasped softly. "Voldemort." As she whispered the Dark Lord's name, crippling pain tore through them, summoning them to his side. They climbed down the boulder, shaking as waves of fear overcame them. Ginny screamed in frustration, falling to the ground. Hermione helped her up, and they walked hand in hand towards what was to be both their fate and their deaths.


End file.
